


Where the Sun Doesn't Shine

by fredbassett



Series: Stephen/Ryan series [61]
Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a caving trip, Lyle decides to take a short cut and Lester is stubborn enough to follow him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Sun Doesn't Shine

Lester stared down at the narrow slot between two boulders, all too conscious of the expression of total disbelief on his face.

“You have got to be bloody kidding, Jon. There is no way on God’s earth I’ll fit through there.”

Lyle wiped the sweat from his eyes with a muddy hand and grinned. “I can do it, and I’m bigger than you are.”

“If it hasn’t escaped your notice, you’re also nearly ten years younger than me.”

“Eight, actually.”

Lester sighed loudly. “Stop splitting hairs. I’m a government hatchet man, not a fucking contortionist. And I also happen to know what the rest of that passage is like, so don’t even bother trying to bullshit me.”

His brother Ralph had described his exit by this particular route in glorious – and obscene – detail after his one and only trip through this particular section of the South Wales underworld.

“If we go that way, we’ll be back at the entrance in half an hour.” Lyle’s hazel eyes held an amused look that Lester was all too familiar with. It was obvious he knew perfectly well that what Lester really wanted above anything else was a long, hot shower back at the cottage they’d rented for the weekend. “It’ll take us treble that, and the rest, if we have to take the long way round.”

“It’ll take even longer if I get stuck.”

“Trust me, sweetums. Would I get you stuck?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time …”

Lyle waved one gloved hand airily. “It’ll be fine. Just do what I say and we’ll be back on the surface in two shakes of a diictodon’s tail.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Temple again,” Lester grumbled, going down on his knees and staring at the squeeze. Lyle was several inches bigger around the chest than he was and had a couple of inches of extra height as well, which wouldn’t be any advantage in the section of passage they’d have to traverse if he agreed to take this bloody ridiculous ‘short-cut’. “If I die horribly down here I’ll come back to haunt you. And I’ve left the Mercedes to Ralph, so if you want that changed, you’d better bring me out of this godforsaken place alive.”

His lover leaned forward and pulled him into a hard kiss. Lester’s tongue duelled briefly for dominance, then he let Lyle claim his mouth for a long moment. The soldier knew perfectly well Lester was too bloody-minded to take the easy way out, which was no doubt what the little sod had been banking on the whole time they’d been underground.

Lester nipped lightly at Lyle’s lower lip. “I shall expect to be waited on hand, foot and finger for the rest of the weekend.”

Lyle’s eyes sparkled in triumph. A moment later, the younger man was wriggling through the narrow slot, the scrape of his oversuit on the rocks sounding loud in the silence of the cave. Lester heard the occasional grunt and muffled curse then, after nearly ten minutes, Lyle called back to him, his voice muffled by the boulder-choke which now separated them, “Your turn, sweetie. Keep coming to the sound of my voice. The first six metres is the worst on this stretch. After that it’s a doddle.”

Lester knelt down and stared at the hole he had to wriggle through. For all Lyle’s bravado, it had been a tight fit on him and, all joking aside, the soldier was considerably fitter than Lester had ever been. But, if Ralph had been right, technique would count for a lot here, and James Lester had never lacked technique. He stretched his arms in front of him, breathed out and slithered head first into the slot. It was tight, but angled slightly downwards, which helped. He let gravity take him forward, elbows taking his weight once his chest had passed the tightest point and he was able to get some purchase on the rock above him with one booted foot to push himself along through the next section.

The sound of his own breathing was harsh in his ears and Lester could feel his heart hammering hard in his chest. He knew perfectly well that there was an even tighter squeeze to come at some point, but letting his mind dwell on that now wouldn’t help. Lyle’s voice was a reassuring constant in his ears, even though most of the time he had no idea at all what was being said to him. Lester struggled up into a sitting position, then took the weight on his elbows, pushing up a tight, almost vertical chimney, twisting his legs underneath him so he could bend his knees in the right direction and eventually get the weight on his feet again. Ralph was Lyle’s height, and he’d sworn blind this was one of the most difficult manoeuvres in the first section. For Lester, two inches shorter than his elder brother, the move wasn’t too bad, even though he did feel like he was trying to contort his body in at least three different directions at once.

“If I get out of this alive, I’m going to fucking kill you, Jon.”

A disembodied chuckle some way above him told him Lyle had heard his threat.

Lester craned his neck around, trying to assess the nature of the next obstacle. He was now standing in a narrow rift, hemmed in on all sides by grey limestone. Upwards progress could only be made by wriggling and thrutching, jamming his boots against small ledges and pushing. It was hard work and he was over-heating rapidly. On one occasion he lost his purchase and slid back down a couple of feet, losing most of the precious height he’d gained. A vicious curse was ripped from his lips as he struggled to prevent himself sliding further back down.

“Take it easy, James,” Lyle instructed, failing to disguise his concern at Lester’s outburst. “Just breathe a minute.”

“I’m caving, not fucking giving birth,” Lester growled, repeating his exertions until he’d regained his previous position.

Eventually, he was lying face down across another boulder, panting and gasping, the smell of mud and his own sweat filling his nostrils. His feet were still dangling down the narrow chimney, but a bit of work with his elbows succeeded in dragging himself away from the awkward climb and into a relatively straightforward wriggle up a steady incline.

Lyle was waiting for him in a small, mud-floored chamber, barely big enough to accommodate both of them.

“Don’t tell me I’ve cracked the worst of it,” Lester panted. “I know perfectly well we haven’t reached the bloody crux yet.”

His lover grinned. “You’ve been listening to that sadist of a brother of yours. Ralph’s bigger than you are, honey. It’s a tight fit, I’ll give you that, but if Ditz can do it – and he can, I did this trip with him and Blade last year – you’ll romp it.”

Lester snorted, but, although he wouldn’t admit it, the fact that Ditzy, with a chest several sizes bigger than his, had got through did something to calm the butterflies currently doing a clog-dance in his guts. He contorted himself into something that didn’t quite resemble a comfortable position and settled down to wait for Lyle to tackle the last obstacle between them and daylight.

He knew from Ralph’s description that a tight passage led up a gentle slope away from the main boulder ruckle. The floor had been rubbed smooth by the passage of cavers, even though this section of the cave was infrequently visited, for obvious reasons and there was little or nothing to push against, so forward progress was not easily gained. Lyle wasn’t wasting any breath on conversation now. He had none to spare. Lester heard the soldier’s feet kicking the roof of the crawl in an attempt to find something to push against.

After what seemed like a lifetime, but was, in reality, little more than five minutes, Lester heard Lyle’s voice telling him it was his turn. He rolled his eyes. His lover was going to have to do something spectacular to make up for this bloody trip.

It was even harder to make progress in the narrow confines of the crawl than Lester had imagined. The coating of mud sucked at his oversuit making every inch of forward progress dearly bought, and there were times when all Lester felt he was doing was shifting around inside his kit, rather than actually moving through the passage. But, inch by tortuous inch, he slithered on, pushing with his elbows, scrabbling with his feet and mentally cursing his lover every moment of the way.

Sweat was running freely from every pore of his body. Lester could feel the rock pressing down on his back now and he knew that if it got much tighter, he’d be buggered, no matter what Lyle tried to tell him.

“You’re reached the tightest part, James,” said Lyle. “Just take it slowly.”

“Fast would appear to be out of the question, darling,” Lester said, breathing out slowly and pushing with both feet.

His chest was compressed between roof and floor, breathing was difficult and he was bloody certain he’d skinned both elbows to the bone, but Sir James Lester was not going to lose in a straight fight with a cave. His right boot pressed down against a small rock, wedged on one side of the passage. It wasn’t much but it just gave him the purchase he’d been begging for. He drew a shallow breath into his lungs and pushed as hard as he could, breathing out at the same time. He felt the rock shift under his foot and thought for a brief, chilling moment that he’d over-committed himself, then his shoulders came free of the roof and he gained another couple of inches upwards, just enough to get him past the tightest part of the squeeze.

Lester let his head sink down for a moment as relief swept through him in a tide. He’d done it, he was through the tightest bit. A few more wriggles and a lot more shoving saw him at the top of the slope. Lyle had gone on ahead, as soon as he’d been sure Lester had survived the squeeze, and the soldier was no doubt already outside, waiting for him on a wooded hillside.

Dry leaves cracked under his arms and the smell of warm earth and fresh air filled Lester’s nostrils. His breath was coming in laboured pants now, but the adrenaline flowing in his body took him beyond the pain in his skinned elbows, beyond the trembling in his legs. He could see daylight now and that was enough to keep him going, crawling on hands and knees, glad to be able to get the weight off his painful forearms.

He’d done it, he’d bloody well done it.

Lyle was waiting for him, helmet thrown to one side, oversuit and fleece undersuit stripped off to the waist, mud and sweat streaking his face and his hair. His lover was grinning widely, fired up by the same adrenaline surge that Lester was still experiencing. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the canopy of the trees, while he fumbled with the chinstrap of his helmet.

Lyle bent over him and kissed him roughly. Lester opened his mouth under the onslaught of the other man’s lips and tongue. Lyle fumbled between his legs and, with a degree of surprise, Lester realised his cock was hard and aching. Fire pooled in his belly, his balls tightened and, without warning, Lester came, his hips bucking up into Lyle’s hand.

Lester lay on the bank in a loose-limbed sprawl, letting the tide of pleasure ebb and flow through his shaking limbs.

Lyle grinned at him. “Welcome to the club, sweetheart. You are now officially as bonkers as Blade. He quite literally got his rocks off getting through that bit as well.”

Lester groaned and pulled Lyle down for a more leisurely kiss. “If you tell him about this, you’ll be in the spare room for a month. Now, carry me down this bloody hillside before I insist on you licking the come off my stomach.”

His lover dropped a kiss onto the end of his nose. “Even I’m not that kinky, sweetums. But if you’re a very good boy, I will wash the kit when we get back.”

“That’s not all you’ll be doing,” Lester commented, letting Lyle pull him to his feet. “Nothing less than a hot bath, a full body massage and a meal that I haven’t had to cook, is going to get you off this particular hook, my little chickadee.”

The look on Lyle’s face held the promise of all that and more.

And although Lester hated to admit it, the bugger had been right all along. They had reached the surface in only half an hour, even if he’d had to practically shapeshift to achieve it.


End file.
